Astrid Peth Novels & Stories

He just stood up. “I'm really sorry.” He said and retreated into the house. . Astrid sat in her room, watching the ceiling like it was suddenly interesting to look at. It was, but it wasn't interesting enough. She was bored. Where could she go? What could she do? A knock on the door drew her out of her bed and she walked to open it. “Oh, good morning!” She grinned as she found Nikoleta in front of her with a bright smile on her face.

It was a low, clear note that resonated in the hollow of his bones. Aethoniel approached, the silken shadows that clung to his form trailing behind him like a royal cloak. He was tall, all sharp angles and predatory grace, his skin the pale silver of moonlight, his hair a fall of ink-black silk. His eyes, the colour of aged mercury, swept over her. She was a storm-witch, he’d been told. Her magic would taste of ozone and unleashed tempests. “Do you know why you are here, Astrid?” he asked, his voice a low hum that vibrated in the air between them.

Carefully, I stepped closer then froze when I recognized the male voice. Rio. Of course. I moved behind one of the decorative pillars quietly and peeked around the edge. Sure enough, Beta Rio stood lazily against the wall with one arm braced beside a young maid who looked nervous enough to faint. She couldn’t have been older than nineteen. Poor thing. Rio looked annoyingly beautiful as always. His dark clothes clung loosely to his body, his hair slightly messy. His smile was charming enough to fool almost anyone. The maid was already blushing furiously beneath his attention.

She's freed herself from all responsibilities and all she cares about is herself and her arts. Everything from her ripped shorts that she’s one too many times to her colourful neon coloured hair is original. She sings from the top of her lungs when her favourite song comes on the radio and she loves creating beautiful music. She sings every night in all kinds of cafés and you'll find her in the streets during the day, singing for the crowds and living her life off of tips. Moving to this town Vityhill; she's ready to bless their ears with her talent. She finds herself somehow drawn into a pet store, and right in the corner, past all of the cute puppies and kittens, she somehow picks the "ove

Turning Astrid looks almost embarrassed by our show of I want to say affection but honestly it is just pure filth going through Adira’s mind right now. “Ok, take your position, Adira, we need you to show Astrid and Autumn some of the easiest ways to keep Ajax from actually pinning you” Ares tells my tart of a wolf, who is still purring at our mates. ‘Adira concentrate, Astrid needs us’ My wolf pouts but takes her stance.

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚. My Astrid.

Astrid found the Women’s Etiquette class to be as bad as she feared and her thoughts meandered as Mrs Bellmar repeated the ‘women are servants’ speech again. She is Princess Astrid Nara Katrall, the true heir to the Kaltharian throne. Does she really want to be a Queen? People have sacrificed their very lives and outlawed themselves permanently for her. Just for her. She remembered all the risks she had taken with her own life as a thief, never knowing that thousands, maybe tens of thousands of people depended on her.

Now and then, my eyes stole glances at mom and Jeff. Huh, look how they laugh together like a love-drunk couple. That's disgusting to me. "Oh, dude," shouted Astrid, getting off the bike. She immediately hugged me "why is it so suddenly? What about Arley? Asked Astrid. She's the only friend I have. She has exotic brown skin with shiny black hair, and she has long lashes and an oval face like mine. There is one dimple on her left cheek. It adds to the sweetness of her face.

“Maybe he can talk some sense into Ketil.” “No, that’s not why I want to see him,” she said. Apart from a friendly face, she desired counsel on the border depredations which had depleted livestock and seen women carried off. Since the leader of the mercenaries was no longer an option, and Sigurd was either brooding or sulking somewhere, it had to be him. Orm was far too young and impulsive, despite being slightly older than her. “Why do you not take a walk in the maze? You can tell me what you think to it, afterwards.” Astrid brightened. “I watched them re-assembling it. It was fascinating,” she said, tossing an apple up into the air and catching it. “What a good idea of yours, my Queen.”

ME: At the front of the house. Minutes later, the gate opens and Astrid walks out, the sight of her almost makes my heart stop, she’s dressed in a light navy dress that stops at her mid-thigh, her thick blonde hair is let out in waves, draping over her shoulders, she’s not wearing any make-up, but she looks dazzling either still. “Hey, Vixen.” I take her into my arms when she approaches me, breathing in her rosy scent, damn, this woman is going to be the end of me.